I Do Miracles
by jtav
Summary: Asami lost her boyfriend and her company. Mako became the thing he hated most. But when a colonel with plans for a "pure" Earth Kingdom wants Asami to build a weapon with the potential to change the face of warfare, they might be the only ones who can save Gaoling.
1. Revolving Personal Cannon

_Courage is a moral quality; it is not a chance gift of nature like an aptitude for games. It is a cold choice between two alternatives, the fixed resolve not to quit; an act of renunciation which must be made not once but many times by the power of the will._ –Charles Wilson

* * *

"Papers! Prepare to present your papers!"

A groan went up through the throng of people shopping in Gaoling's central market. The state had been one of the first pacified by the Provisional Authority, and the request for papers had long since become a commonplace annoyance. Though, some of the younger people grumbled, the soldiers had once said _please._ The soldiers moved with brisk efficiency, the sunlight gleaming off their metal armor. A few people, mostly old women who reminded Asami remarkably of Yin, seemed positively eager to show the soldiers that their papers were in order. Most of the rest stood silent and plastered deferential smiles on their faces. A few looked around nervously. Probably people carrying small amounts of opium or whatever vice had Kuvira horrified this week. As if anyone could be horrified by a few drugs when VarriFuture Industries produced every mecha tank and airship the army used.

Asami took her identification from her pocket and held it out for the guard's inspection. It was impossible to read his face through the mask, but his breath came in short, metallic gasps. "Sato, Asami," he read. "United Republic, no bending, one-quarter foreign blood, special work permit, unrestricted movement." His voice cracked even through the metal. "You're her. You were Avatar Korra's friend. You and that other guy, the earthbender. What did he call you? Something Avatar.

The people around her were staring, twittering at this latest piece of gossip. Asami flinched inwardly. She had come to Gaoling a few weeks earlier to oversee the factory at Varrick's insistence, but she had tried to be as anonymous as she could. Asami, not Ms. Sato. Just another manager, not a failed CEO who had had her own company stolen from her. And certainly not a member of Team Avatar. No matter what Bolin said, they hadn't been Team Avatar since before Harmonic Convergence. Team Avatar had four members, not three, and not even Bolin had been able to find Mako after Raiko had banished him for the cultural center bombing. Her fault, for realizing too late that Varrick wasn't her friend and for being too much of a coward to risk her failing company for the sake of the man she loved.

And now she had no boyfriend, no company, and no Avatar.

The soldier seemed oblivious. "You killed that waterbender with no arms. That was so cool!" He gestured frantically at the wine-colored scarf around her neck. "Can I see the scar?"

Another soldier marched up to the boy and put her hand on his shoulder. "Enough with your celebrity hunting, Hong Li. We have work to do." She nodded at Asami. "Sorry, ma'am." The soldiers marched down the street, checking papers as they went.

Asami made a show of examining the silk robes "direct from the Fire Nation." Asami flipped one over. The garment tag at the neck had been cut out, but there was still a jagged edge with the barest hint of yellow and green. "Direct from Omashu, more like it," she muttered.

The proprietor, a large slightly balding man shrugged. "People want to brag to crazy friends they have Fire Nation gowns. Who am I to disagree?" His gaze flickered east. "And I'm not mad enough to try for the real thing."

Asami followed his gaze. She could just barely see the glint of the wall that divided the Foreign Quarter from the rest the city. In the time of Avatar Aang, it had housed the poorest of the city. It still did, but the demographics had changed. Now it was the home of the _dojin_ , those who were technically citizens of the Earth Kingdom but were ethnically Fire Nation or Water Tribe. Many had immigrated to the United Republic over the last seventy years, but those who remained had found themselves stuck there by custom and later, as what was left of civil order fractured in the wake of the Earth Queen's death, by law. Even Kuvira's forces rarely ventured within the walls. It was a hotbed of sedition, rumors said. Of murder. Of rape. And you could get anything there for the right price.

A flash of red caught Asami's attention from the corner of her eye. The man was perhaps thirty or forty, with a dirty brown coat that had been patched and repatched. He was tall, with a gaunt, sallow face, and constantly shifting from foot-to-foot. Asami couldn't take her eyes from his scarf. It was red, like hers, but a brilliant crimson she had only seen once before. Asami made a fist. It wasn't the same scarf. Mako had taken that with him when he left the city—the only thing he had taken as far as she knew. This was just a common bit of cloth. Anything else was just another phantom created by her guilty conscience.

The soldiers approached him. "Papers."

His eyes bugged. "Papers?" He patted his coat with increasing urgency. "I seem to have left them at home."

"Well I guess we can let you o—" Hong Li grunted as his partner jabbed him in the stomach. "I mean, I'm afraid you'll have to come with us."

"Oh, how silly of me. Right here." He produced a passport, still fidgeting as he did so.

The woman snatched it from him. "These expired last month. And what are you doing out of your quarter without a work permit? I'm afraid you really will have to come—"

But the man had already taken off down the street in a dead run, pushing screaming pedestrians out of his way. His red scarf fluttered behind him. Asami could almost hear Korra in her ear. _This is just as bad as the Earth Queen. Maybe worse. At least she left everything that wasn't Ba Sing Se pretty much alone if they paid their taxes. Remember when we used to cruise down the streets stopping Equalists and Tarrlok's goons?_

"I remember." They had all been so terribly young then and convinced it was easy to be brave.

 _I did not almost die so that Whatshisname could inherit a police state. You ought to do something._

She could. Her glove was safely locked away, but a handful of unenthusiastic metalbenders were nothing compared to Ming-Hua. She could stop them with a few strikes. They'd fall to the ground before they even knew she'd struck.

And then what? There were dozens of witnesses. She'd be arrested, probably executed no matter how chummy Varrick was with the Provisional Authority. The man she'd tried to save would be recaptured and either killed or sent to a labor camp for espionage. The factory would come under fire. Innocent people would lose the only thing standing between them and poverty. Anything she did when only make things worse. Asami was so very tired of the good she did only making things worse.

Another voice. Mako's. _Or you're just a coward._

Asami stayed where she was.

The female soldier sighed and let fly a metal shard from her pauldron. It sailed through the air like a dagger and lodged in the man's neck. Blood spurted from the artery. He made a choking, gurgling sound as he fell. A child screamed only to have her mouth quickly covered by her mother. The man landed at an unnatural angle and papers spilled from his pockets. Posters emblazoned with Prince Wu's face. _Long Live the King!_ _Down with the Great Uniter!_ A single blank sheet of paper containing nothing but a stylized plum blossom.

It took every ounce of finishing school training for Asami keep her face still. The Provisional Authority monitored and censored every newspaper and book, but they couldn't censor the whispers: the rumors told and retold in every pai sho parlor and tavern from Ba Sing Se to Chin Village. They told of an organization dedicated to sending the Provisional Authority back to Zaofu and crowning Wu immediately to preside over a decentralized Earth Kingdom as Kuei had done. Or they were democrats. They were remnants of the Red Lotus. One woman swore she had seen Amon prowling the Foreign Quarter with them. They were pacifists; they were saboteurs. The only thing anyone could agree on was that they used the sign of the plum blossom and that they officially didn't exist.

Hong Li ripped off his mask and ducked into the alley. A few moments later, Asami heard the unmistakable sound of retching. Most of the other people in the market stared in numb horror. Gaoling was an old city, a genteel city. Even the capitulation to Kuvira had been more a tactical move them one of necessity. Asami could already hear whispered "of all the things to do in front of children" and a promise to write a strongly-worded letter to Kuvira. But most of them were like Asami, transfixed by the blood working its way through the cobblestones and the drawing of the plum blossom.

The female soldier summoned her shard and wiped the blood from her blade as if she did this every day. "All right everyone. Go about your business. That's an order, in the name of…" She glanced down at-the-blood-soaked posters and pamphlets. "In the name of the Provisional Authority. And somebody get a sanitation team down here."

Asami shuffled home. The sun broke through the clouds, and the scent of flowers filled the air, but Asami's vision was filled with red and purple. Scarves, blood, and flowers. She and Korra had defied the embodiment of chaos once upon a time. An overzealous military should be nothing. But she had had Korra before. Even after Mako had left, it had been Korra righting wrongs with Asami as her unfailing, glad lieutenant. Korra was lost to the poison, and Bolin was stuck bodyguarding Wu. There was nothing she could do on her own.

Korra again. _But this standing by on the sidelines isn't you at all. We just need to find something for you to do. Seems like this place could use a savior. If you really aren't a coward._

"I'm not," Asami whispered to the air. "Just tell me what to do."

Asami's home here wasn't as grand as the mansion, but it was close. It had been the old Beifong estate once, someone had told her. A token of the Provisional Authority's esteem and gratitude for the partnership with VarriFuture. Probably Varrick's idea. He'd beaten her. No reason not to be magnanimous in victory. And as Asami felt the hot water wash over her, she could almost forget to be offended.

Asami had changed into her dressing gown and was making notes in a ledge when a brief, firm rap sounded on the door. Chie, busy dusting and rearranging glass figurines of Aang and his friends, stiffened. Asami went to the window and looked out. A single Provisional Authority guard stood outside the door, hands behind his back. "No need to be nervous," Asami said with what she hoped was a kind smile. If they had wanted to arrest someone, they would'vesend more than one soldier. "Tell Huo to see what he wants."

Asami watched from her perch as the soldier made a great show of leaving a card and what looked like a folded letter with her butler. Some diplomatic nicety or other. A few minutes later, Huo gave his own perfunctory knock and marched into the study bearing a tray with the visiting card and an envelope bearing her name. "It appears the Provisional Authority is finally deigning to take notice of us," he said with a barely restrained scorn.

There was a scandalized noise from Chie, but Asami took the letter from Huo without comment. He had known her since before her mother died, and was one of the few staff members who had followed her to Gaoling. She read.

 _My dear Ms. Sato,_

 _It is my pleasure to formally welcome you to Gaoling. Your actions against the Red Lotus and commitment to the cause of order and balance do you great credit, but it is your technical knowledge that has come to my attention. I request your presence tomorrow at 3 pm to discuss a matter that may be critical to the security of the Earth Kingdom and completing the work of Avatar Korra._

 _Sincerely yours,_

 _Col. Damayanti Kala_

 _Provisional Authority Security and Intelligence Office_

"I've heard of her," Chie said breathlessly. "Practically the first one out of Zaofu after Kuvira and Bataar. Rumor has it she took down a cell of Red Lotus all by herself. And a few bystanders. And you've seen those 'May Kuvira live for one thousand years' posters? She's a big fan of them. And she's—"

"That's enough, Chie," Huo said. "Ms. Sato has had a very long day and doesn't need you gossiping about the people in charge."

When Chie had left, Huo locked the door behind them. "You do look like something the rabbit-cat dragged in. It wouldn't have anything to do with that resistance fighter in the marketplace, would it?" He smiled at her. "Chie isn't the only one who listens to gossip."

"You know me entirely too well." Asami rubbed her temples. "It's better than the Earth Queen or the Red Lotus, but it's still not right. If Korra were here, she would put everything right. No papers or curfews or walling off a whole section of the city."

Huo made a noncommittal noise, and Asami narrowed her eyes. She knew that look; it was the same look he had given her as a child when she had made an elementary algebra mistake and he wanted her to figure it out for herself. "What is it?"

"Do you remember what the difference between a laborer, a philosopher, and an engineer is?"

She smiled at the memory of the old lesson. "A laborer only does what he is told, a philosopher speaks only of the world as it should be, but the engineer tries to improve what is. With lots of tape if necessary."

"Indeed." He took the chair opposite her. "Maybe Korra could do better, but Korra's not here. And perhaps you can't kill a soldier in broad daylight and get away with it. So what can you do? The answer isn't nothing. No, not even at VarriFuture. For one, Varrick doesn't strike me as the kind of fellow who cares what you do as long as he gets his precious profit. You still have people who depend on you. All the firbenders and waterbenders who work at the factory. Charity work that needs doing." He reached across the desk and covered her hand with his. "Perhaps it's time for you to stop beating yourself up over Future Industries and that boy of yours and focus on the people you can still help."

Asami gave him a small smile. But when she dreamed that night it was of a red scarf lying in the dirt and nameless voices calling her a coward and a fool.

* * *

Asami had ducked into the women's powder room to reapply her lipstick when she heard the unmistakable sound of sobbing. A girl of no more than seventeen stood bent over the sink. She might have been pretty under ordinary circumstances, but makeup ran down her face in a river of black and peach. Her skirt and blouse were clean but slightly faded and unfashionable. One of the switchboard staff or typists. She saw Asami in the mirror and jumped up. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry about it." Asami moved to leave again and give the girl some privacy, then stopped. These were her people just as much is those at the factory in Republic City had been. Clearly, the girl needed something. She took a step forward and held out her arms. "Want to talk about it?"

"I—I—" The girl collapsed against Asami with a heaving sob. Asami brought her arms around her and let her cry herself out, making soothing noises and stroking the girl's hair as she had done for Korra when the pain had been too much to bear.

"I'm pregnant," the girl said at last, her voice a barely-human croak.

Asami didn't say anything. She and Mako had always been careful, but her late adolescence had been full of whispers of girls led to ruin by an unwanted pregnancy. Her mind whirred, cataloging the problems and likely solutions. "It's all right. There are people who can help you with the expenses or anything else. And this isn't the sort of place to fire you for that."

The girl looked at Asami through red eyes and seemed to notice her for the first time. She stepped back so quickly that Asami nearly lost her balance. "Ms. Sato! I'm ruining your jacket. I'm so sorry. So... "

Asami looked down at her tearstained jacket. "Never mind that. Do you need money? A place to stay?"

"It's not that." Grief was replaced by a sudden wariness. "Is it true what they say about you? That you turned on your own dad because you thought he was doing a bad thing? That you stood by the Avatar no matter what?"

"It's true." A warning prickle traveled up Asami's arms. "This isn't just about the baby, is it?"

"My boyfriend. The police, they…in the market yesterday… I told him getting mixed up with those Plum Blossoms was a mistake…"

Asami stiffened. "That was your boyfriend." The warning prickle became a full-blown shiver. When she was a little girl, her nurse had told her dark spirits paid back every bad thing she did. A child's morality tale, but the truth was far worse. Every little action or inaction had its consequences and here were the consequences for hers: a devastated girlfriend and a child without a father. "I'm so sorry."

"Thank you." She wiped her eyes. "He wouldn't tell me half the stuff he did, wouldn't even marry me. At first, I thought it was because he was so much older, but now…if they find out I am—I was—his girlfriend, they'll kill me. Or worse."

"Not with the ba—" Asami checked herself. Korra had thought Unalaq wanted nothing more than to restore the spirituality of the South. Asami had thought Varrick had only wanted to help her. Better to assume the worst. "What do you need?"

"I need to get out of here. I've got some cousins in the Republic, but it's hard to get an exit visa. Especially if you're, well, if your family isn't from around here."

 _And downright impossible if your boyfriend was committing sedition when he died._ Asami took a deep breath and cast her eyes heavenward as if she could summon Korra from the South by will alone. With this make her happy? Would it, and some small way make up for Asami's cowardice? Would it help?

There was no answer except for the sound of Asami's heartbeat. It didn't matter. _Focus on the people you can still help._ "I'll get you a visa. Still some starstruck people around here. That has to count for something."

The girl threw herself at Asami again. "Oh, thank you! Thank you!"

Asami flushed and disentangled herself with as much grace as she could. "It's nothing." A thought struck her. "I don't even know your name."

She sniffled. "Tsu-chen."

"Well, Tsu-chen," she said with a smile she didn't feel. "I promise you and the little one will be safely back in Republic City before you know it."

* * *

The prefecture was hideous even by the standard of government buildings. Gray, squat, and with harsh angles that made it stand out against the elegant curves of the rest of Gaoling. The metal disc of the Provisional Authority was plastered everywhere Asami looked as she passed row upon row of office workers going about their tasks with varying degrees of enthusiasm. She stopped one who was carrying a dangerously tottering stack of papers. "Could you tell me where to find Col. Kala?"

"She stepped out for a smoke, but try the Chief of Police's office. She always wants to yell at him about something. Third door on your right. And better me than you."

Well, that wasn't ominous at all. Asami opened the door. The Chief of Police's office looked like a poorly-trained airbender had blown through. Papers were scattered across every available surface of the desk. The chief stared back at her in surprise and dismay. Asami scowled. She had heard rumors that the Provisional Authority had brought in a former Republic City officer, but she never expected it to be Saikhan. His balding hair was grayer, and there were more lines in his face, but it was undeniably him. The barely audible gulp told her that he recognized her too. "Ms. Sato. What can I do for you?"

"Hello to you too." She had barely spared him a second thought since the Equalist uprising, but her shoulders tensed. Someone who would throw her in jail on his boss' say so; just what she needed. "I'm looking for Col. Kala. She had something she wanted to discuss with me."

"Some crazy idea Baatar and Varrick put into her head. I've got enough trouble around here without people dreaming of death machines. If you see him, tell Raiko thanks for dumping all his problems in my lap. Toss a few thousand crooks out of the city and every single one of them ends up in Gaoling."

"Well, at least we know you won't have a problem putting them in jail," she muttered under her breath.

"I did what I was told. Maybe I did a lot of things I shouldn't have, but I would've ended up in jail the same as you with nothing to show for it. Thirty years on the force up in smoke. Can you blame me?"

Asami had opened her mouth for a bitter retort when the sight of Tsu-chen's boyfriend lying in the street flickered across her brain. "It was a long time ago. Tell you what, you do me a little favor and I'll let bygones be bygones. Maybe even see what I can do about cutting you guys a good deal on our new electric weapons."

"What kind of favor?"

Asami smiled. It was so easy sometimes. "One of my employee's grandmother died recently. She wants to go home for the funeral, but she's having some trouble getting an exit visa. If you could just sign off on it, I would appreciate that."

"No."

"No?" Okay, maybe this wasn't going to be easy.

"Everybody who wants a visa needs a certificate along with their ID, stating they aren't a criminal or subversive element. Another thing you can thank Raiko for when you see him." He waved his hand over the mess of papers. "Your old friends Viper and Shady Shin have decided they want the Triple Threats back. In my city. I know you can't tell from that hoity-toity mansion of yours, but we've got a smuggling problem down here in the real world. You bring me the paperwork verifying your friend won't make my life worse and I'll sign anything you want. Until then, it's not worth my hide."

And if Tsu-chen could pass the background check, she wouldn't have asked for Asami's help. _Stupid Triple Threa—wait a second. Where there's a black market and ID requirements, there are forgers._ "Tell me about these problems you're having. I've fought a few crooks, if you remember, and I still owe Viper and Shin a few words about what they did to Future Industries." She pounded her fist into her palm for emphasis.

"Yeah, I guess you do." He smiled, but without humor. "They all operate out of the Foreign Quarter. Pack of spider-rats. Biggest problem I have isn't even with them. It's this Miracle Man guy. Opium, those electric gloves your dad invented, counterfeit cash, you name it, people say they got it from him. You kick his teeth in, I'll sign anything you want."

"Deal." If he was a counterfeiter, he sounded like a wonderful start in her search for fake documents. And if that didn't work out, well, beating up some criminals might make her feel better.

"Ah, Saikhan," said a cold, crisp voice from behind Asami. "I hope you've been keeping Ms. Sato entertained."

Asami turned. The woman behind her was beautiful in the way storms were beautiful. High, sharp cheekbones and delicate eyebrows. Her hair was beginning to silver, but it was still thick and lustrous. She wore the uniform of the Provisional Authority, and it was immaculate as the rest of her. But those eyes… Beautiful forest green ones that looked at Asami and Saikhan the way Varrick's accountants it's not worth my looked at the Future Industries factory right before they had decided to lay off ninety percent of the employees. Asami suppressed a shiver. "Col. Kala?"

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ms. Sato." They shook hands. Her grip was firm but not painful. "Follow me, please."

The office Kala led her into was so different from Saikhan's that it might have been from a different world altogether. A new mahogany desk so polished that Asami could see her reflection. Plush green carpet. A photograph of what Asami could only assume were Kala's husband and children sat on the desk next to one of Kuvira shaking Kala's hand.

"Have a seat, Ms. Sato." Kala stepped around the desk and opened a drawer. She handed what looked like a crude sketch drawn on the back of a napkin. The whatever it was had a long barrel, a revolving chamber in the center, and what looked like a downwardly curving handgrip with what looked like a trigger at the opposite end. "One of the products of Varrick's imagivation sessions. The revolving personal cannon, I think he calls it. Propels small pieces of metal at very high speeds by means of blackpowder. I want to know if it's a workable design, or if this is another hand shoes debacle."

"I don't know. I've never seen anything like this." She had seen naval cannons and rockets powered by blackpowder, but never anything designed for personal use. "You just load the metal into the chamber and it's propelled out?" She tried to visualize it in her head. "With enough force, it could rip into anything it came in contact with."

"And from quite a considerable distance. Very easy to train someone to use, in theory. It could change the face of warfare as we know it."

"Yes, it could," Asami said in a small voice. She turned the image over in her mind. Metal ripping into flesh or cloth. It might be possible for a skilled metalbender to bend the projectile away, but it would be going too fast for most people to dodge or block. All from the pull of the trigger. "It sounds like the sort of thing that my father would have designed."

"Just like your glove. Please, don't be squeamish about this. We non-benders need every advantage we can get." She touched the portrait of her family and an expression almost like tenderness crossed her face. "I just want to go back to the people I love." Ice again. "But to do that, we have to purge the undesirables standing in the way of a stable, united Earth Kingdom."

"It seems to me some of your soldiers don't need anything that makes it easier to kill. Maybe you'd have an easier time managing the city if you didn't wall everyone up and stab people for not having their IDs."

"You saw that, did you? Regrettable, but necessary. And he did turn out to be a traitor." She peered at Asami. "You have some Fire Nation ancestry?"

"My father," Asami said coldly.

"The United Republic does have a…very high number of those with mixed ancestry. And a distressingly high crime rate. Civil order depends on shared culture and a common understanding of who we are. For every exceptional case such as you and your friends, there are a thousand triads and riots. The only way to keep Gaoling safe is that wall and the identification cards. Pray that more extreme measures are not required."

 _And she wants me to build weapons for her after her speech like that?_ "I don't really think I'm the person you want for this project."

"The project of a stable and prosperous Earth Kingdom united under one banner? You are exactly the person I want. I was in Zaofu when you and your friends visited. I know how close you were to the Avatar. This is exactly the sort of thing she would be doing if she were well. Perhaps we are harsh, but we are only ordinary people. Hence the need for greater technology. Peace will only come through strength."

"I already have the work at the factory. Like I said, I really don't think I'm the person you want."

"Even if it's what Korra would want?" Kala steepled her fingers. "I should mention that the financial remuneration would be considerable. Enough to buy back Varrick's interest in Future Industries excuse me, I mean VarriFuture." She leaned forward and again her voice was soft. "What you lost can be regained. If this…RPC can exist, it will eventually be created. You may as well be the one. The name 'Sato' would become an icon for peace and order instead of treason and bigotry. You would be doing the right thing and not suffer for it."

Asami considered it. If the Provisional Authority was that desperate for her help, she could demand millions. Future Industries would be hers again. No more watching in silence as Varrick exploited her workers. She could go home. Maybe she would even find Mako, convince Raiko to pardon him. Which meant giving people like Kala a terrible weapon. To ensure yet more children grew up without fathers. When the history books told the story of how Wu regained his throne, her name would be mentioned alongside Kuvira and Kala. And they would mention the wall and the stabbings and everything else. She would be tarred with the same brush, spoken in the same tones people used when they discussed Jet. "My answer is no."

"I see. Good day to you, Ms. Sato. I hope I can eventually find an inducement that you will accept."


	2. Miracle Man

Asami had never been this close to the Foreign Quarter before. Sunlight glinted off the steel wall and off the spikes of barbed wire at the top. She walked briskly towards the guardhouse separating the quarter from the rest of the city. She had dressed as simply as she could in a red shirt and black coat and pants, but she still felt overdressed. She could feel the weight of the electric glove pressing against her side as she approached the lone guard.

He checked her ID, his eyes widening when he saw her name. "Now, why would someone like you want to come to a place like this?"

Asami twirled an errant strand of hair around her finger. Her voice was soft, flirty, and just a bit stupid. A bored socialite. "I hear you can get anything here. Including a good time. It's been a long time since I had a good time."

"Find it somewhere else. It's not worth my hide if the Avatar's pal gets burnt to a crisp because she wants to get laid."

"Maybe I can make it worth it for you" She held out a two thousand yuan note. He stared at it the way a hungry beggar would stare at Kwong's elephant-koi.

"Fine. More to keep them in than you out." He took the note and stamped her ID. When he handed it back to her, he looked around to make sure nobody was listening and he whispered, "Think you can It's not worth my give me some rice wine? The really good stuff? I um kind of pissed off the Miracle Man and now all I can get is cheap swill."

 _Just how much of the black market does this guy control?_ "I'll see what I can do."

He opened the gate and Asami stepped into the world beyond.

She wasn't sure what she had been expecting. She had blazed through the poorer sections of Republic City as part of Team Avatar, but it wasn't the same as being down here. The streets were narrow and twisty, with loose cobblestones that would have played havoc with a Satomobile engine, if there had been any on the road. Apartment buildings with narrow windows pressed against each other. What she noticed most though was the smell. Sweat seemed to cling to everything as people pressed on about their business. They scurried and jostled like spider-rats, too many people in too small of a space. They were dressed like Mako and Bolin used to: industrial grays and browns, with only flashes of skintone or a scarf or belt to distinguish them. A few people glanced her way, but most people seemed too busy or anxious about whatever business they had to worry about a slumming socialite.

Not that she had seen much of anything worth slumming over. The handful of businesses she had seen wouldn't have been out of place in Republic City: sewing and mending, dry goods, a butcher shop. _You were expecting gaudy posters and scantily-clad girls?_ said Korra's voice in her head. _People are people, no matter where and who they are. Don't get suckered into Kala's crap. Most people aren't crooks. Speaking of which, most of this stuff is technically contraband. I'm betting they don't advertise it._

Right. Even here, the Triple Threats would do is they always had, working out of back rooms and through trusted intermediaries. So would the Miracle Man she needed to find. She just needed to find an intermediary.

"Haven't seen you around before. You looking for a good time, pretty girl? Because I know this fine little establishment just around the corner where we might become… better acquainted."

Asami tensed. Ping's soft, oily voice hadn't changed a bit. And neither had the man himself, the only concession to his reduced circumstances being a slight hollowness of his cheeks. She turned and allowed herself a small smile. "I think we're already acquainted."

His eyes went wide, and sweat formed on his brow. Asami took a step forward. She had never thought herself the kind of person who would enjoy someone else's pain, but she liked seeing him squirm. If it hadn't been for him and his friends, she would still have Future Industries. Varrick would be in prison where he belonged. There would still be a Team Avatar. But she had lost everything because of a miserable, bloodsucking parasite. She could feel the glove next to her. So easy to repay the suffering he had caused so many. She took another step forward.

He ran. Of course he did. Asami gave chase as he ducked into a side street. Shouts as he shoved people out of his way. It'd been a long time since she had to run, but Ping didn't seem to be in great shape either. He huffed and puffed as he dashed through narrow alleys. Asami inhaled and charged on. Flashes of memory filled her mind's eye. Mako pleading with her as she stared at him in dumb shock as the police led him away. One of Ming-Hua's arms transforming into a whipsaw and slashing at her throat. Korra next to her in the infirmary on Air Temple Island, her eyes open but unseeing. _Come on, Asami. Do something right._

Ping turned back and let fly a jet of fire. A woman screamed. Asami watched in horror as it soared through the air with blinding speed towards the boy of six or seven who stood a few inches in front of her. Asami seized him by the shoulders and threw them both to the ground. More screams as she felt the heat kiss her coat. The boy whimpered under her, but at least the fire didn't hit him. She pulled them both to their feet. "You okay?"

"I…I think so?" He looked dazed but unharmed.

Asami scanned the crowd to find a number of people with singed clothing but no Two-toed Ping. She bit back a curse and tried to remind herself that saving the kid had been more important. It was more important. She could find another way to the Miracle Man. And if she couldn't, well some Triple Threat or other would turn up and she could haul them off to Saikhan.

Heavy footsteps sounded as a red-faced man approached her. He was about her father's age, but tall with broad shoulders that looked like they could balance a steel beam with ease. "What do you think you were doing, running out like that? You could've been killed!" He nodded towards Asami. "Thank you."

"Yeah, thanks." The boy turned to what must have been his father. "But it's not my fault. You said there wouldn't be any more bending in the streets. You said the Miracle Man would take care of anybody who—"

"Run along now. Keiji will be worried sick."

"But Dad—"

"I said now." The boy ran off. "His dad and I try to do the best we can, but kids will be kids." He looked Asami up and down and his face changed, becoming shrewd and appraising. "Looking to sample the oh-so-illegal wares of the Foreign Quarter? Only reason people ever come here. "My name is Ryoji. I represent certain people who might be interested in helping you."

"You're in the Triple Threats?"

"We don't ask those kinds of questions in public even around here. But no, I don't work for those bottom feeders. Put my kid in danger, will he? But you? You saved him. So I owe you. Tell me what you want and I'll point you in the right direction? Opium? Some place to crash for the night? I can't help if it's sex. Boss' orders."

Asami blushed. "Nothing like that. I need to talk to the Miracle Man."

He laughed at her. "He doesn't exactly take appointments from two to four."

Asami took his arm. "Look, I didn't come here looking for drugs or new furniture or whatever you and your boss deal in." Her voice dropped to a whisper as she leaned in close. "I need some papers. It's a matter of life and death. Just like for your son. Now, can you take me to the Miracle Man or not?"

"I can." He sighed. "Follow me."

He marched onward without looking to see if Asami followed, and she had to lengthen her strides to keep up. Eventually they came to a music store. Asami raised an eyebrow. Ryoji cracked a smile. "Watch and learn."

The storm was deserted except for a young Water Tribe girl behind the counter. She stiffened almost imperceptibly when she saw Ryoji. "What can I do for you today?"

"Tsungi horn for me and my friend."

"I see. That's one of our special items. If you could follow me to the stock room so I can get you exactly what you want?"

Ryoji all but dragged Asami through a small door in the back. It was, as promised, a stock room filled with musical instruments of every variety—and a curiously bare far wall. Half-buried memories of her father's workshop dredged up through Asami's memory. "Hidden passage? Underground base? I'm guessing there's a switch right about… here?" She tapped the wall and a metal cylinder popped out and opened.

Ryoji stared at her, and the Water Tribe girl grinned. "Well, aren't you a clever one? The boss could use someone like you."

"The Miracle Man?"

She made a scoffing noise. "In here and down there, he's just the boss. Much better at it than those Republic City scum, if you ask me."

"So he's not from the city like the triad members?" Any intelligence she could gather would be useful.

"He pronounces some of the words the same way, but he sure doesn't act like them. I get my money every month for one thing."

Ryoji firebent into the cylinder, and the wall swung away to reveal the beginning of a dark tunnel. "Moving on. Unless you two would prefer to gossip all night?"

Asami followed. With every step she took, she almost expected to see a mecha tank or a chi blocker. After about five meters, the tunnel changed. The walls were smoother than they were lanterns mounted at regular intervals casting a soft glow. And there were stands just like the ones in the central market where people hawked everything from fresh fruit to dynamite. A few of them smiled and made small talk with Ryoji as he passed. Red and green lights illuminated brilliant posters advertising speakeasies and underground mover houses. The walls themselves glistened with a metallic shine. "Amazing," Asami whispered.

"Platinum. Just in case the Provisional Authority gets any ideas."

"It's like an entire city down here."

"An entire market, anyways." He turned right, and Asami had just enough time to read the poster—The Fire Ferret, Alcohol and Entertainment—before Ryoji firebent open another door and thrust her inside. The room beyond was…nice. Elegant even. Plush red carpets and silkscreen wall hangings from the Fire Nation that looked genuine. As desperate as things seemed above ground, everyone here was dressed as if they were going to Kwong's. Most of them sat at covered tables and watched the band play while a woman in a blue dress who looked remarkably like Korra crooned something about a kiss being just a kiss. A few couples had elected to take to the dance floor. They held each other close, eyes closed as they swayed to the music.

A knife twisted in Asami's chest. She could almost imagine she was back home at Kwong's. Wasn't that where she and Mako were going to go the night he was arrested? She missed it, she realized. Not just the food, but the agency of controlling her own company. Being in someone's arms and feeling like it was okay to break a little. Feeling safe and cherished, the knowledge that someone would be there for her.

Ryoji led her through the dining area and bar down a plainer hallway until they reached an unmarked door with what looked like an intercom next to it. "Can't be too careful," Ryoji told her and patted her down. He was brisk and businesslike, taking no more notice of her body that he would a brick wall.

And then he found the glove.

He yanked it out of her pocket and held it up as if it were a poisonous animal. "I knew there was something off about you." His voice was like the grate of metal on metal. "Who sent you? Kala? Saikhan? Viper?" His free hand lashed out as he seized Asami by the neck. "You think I wouldn't recognize a Sato glove when I saw one? I lost my first husband to those Equalist bastards."

He squeezed. Spots swam before Asami's eyes. No. No. She wouldn't die here. She spread her legs as wide as she could and stepped left. She brought her right arm up and over, wrapping around his hands. There was fire in her lungs. She elbowed him in the gut with her free arm. It was enough for his grip to falter, and Asami stepped back. "Not…here…you," she said between pants.

The intercom crackled to life. "Is there a problem, Ryoji?" asked a deep, mechanical voice.

"Assassin." He coughed and lunged at her again. "Had an Equalist glove on her."

"Glove?" A pause during which Ryoji nearly sent Asami through the wall. "Show them in."

"Boss?"

"I said show them in. It'll be fine, Ryoji.."

Ryoji stepped back. "You heard him." His red face shone with sweat. "But if you so much as breathe wrong, you're ashes. Got me?"

The office was surprisingly ordinary for a crime lord. The only thing differentiating it from her study was that there were framed and signed mover and theatrical posters where windows should be. A man stood with his back to her. He wore a dark suit, well-tailored. Probably custom made for him. He was about as tall as she was, of average build. His hands were balled into fists at his side, but when she could see of them was rough, completely at odds with the suit. Her eyes narrowed. That was in the only strange thing. His hair spiked slightly, and there was a flash of red at his neck. The same red Tsu-chen's boyfriend had worn.

"I used to dream about seeing you again." His voice was barely above a whisper, and his hands were trembling. "I guess dreams really do come true."

Asami doubled over as if she had been punched in the stomach. She hadn't heard that voice for over two years, but she could never forget it. Her thoughts crashed into each other. Red around the neck like a scarf. Rough hands from a life on the street. He was safe. He was here. He was in Gaoling. "Mako," she breathed.

He turned. He was thinner than she remembered, his features sharper. He stared back at her with an emotion Asami couldn't name. Neither of them spoke for long moments. Asami had fantasized about this moment for two years. Sometimes, she threw him to the floor and had her way with him. Sometimes she dropped to her knees and begged forgiveness. But seeing him here, in this place, with hard features and harder eyes…she had never imagined this.

"You? How?" she managed at last. "How are you the Miracle Man?" Her mind turned like rusty gears. He was her Mako: thoughtless, but a good man. She had always felt safe with him, her champion and defender. Everything Varrick had said was a lie. This wasn't his world.

His eyes narrowed, and his voice was like a knife. "I had to survive."

Asami flinched. Oh. Of course. He had to survive, alone in a strange country. She had made a deal with the Triple Threats to save Future Industries. What would she do to save her life? Principles would slip away bit by bit the hungrier she became. She had no right to judge, not anymore. She looked at the plush red carpet. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Her vision was blurry. "I was a coward. I should have believed you. I should have."

He crossed the distance between them and put his arms around her. Every muscle in his body was tense, but he was warm and solid and Asami no longer had the strength to hold back tears. She cried into his shirt. His breath hitched. "Asami," he whispered as one hand found her hair. "I missed you."

She pulled back and wiped her eyes, but made no move to leave the warm circle of his arms. "You did?"

"I used to think that I would hate you but now—" The sound he made was somewhere between a laugh and a sob. "I just want to see you again."

The was a knock at the door. "Boss?" Ryoji asked. "Everything okay in there? I heard some funny noises."

Mako sprang away from her and pressed a button on his desk. "Everything is fine. Merely discussing things with the client." He looked at her sheepishly. "You think a guy with a secret identity would get more privacy. We should probably, um, stick to business in here. Why did you want to see me anyway?"

Business, right. Emotional reunions could wait. "I heard that the Miracle Man could get anything. An employee needs to leave the city, but she doesn't qualify for the visa. Her…well, let's just say that she knows some people that Kuvira wouldn't like."

"And you want me to produce a paper saying they she is absolutely, in no way, a subversive element?" He steepled his fingers and withdrew into himself again. The cold and distant Miracle Man, not her boyish Mako. "Standard fee for forged government documents is thirty thousand, half now and half on delivery."

Asami kept her face blank. She had once thrown around that kind of money with barely a thought, but her brush with poverty had made her conscious of how enormous the sum was. "I bet that buys you entry into a lot of pro-bending tournaments." She reached for the money. _I guess I've bought my last piece of jewelry for a while._

He looked at her. "Just like that?"

"I'm not poor. Tsu-chen needs it more than I do."

He winced. "Toza always said you were too good to be true. Keep the money."

"On the house for old time's sake?"

He shook his head. "Nothing is free here, Asami. Not even from me." He made a sweeping gesture with his hands. "I have enough money for all this. What I need are favors, especially from foreigners with good reputations." He opened the desk and pulled out a piece of paper. The seal of the Provisional Authority was embossed at the bottom. "This is what you need. Favor for a favor."

Asami hesitated. _Mako or not, remember that organized crime is organized crime._ "An 'I need a place to stay because the arena blew up' sort of favor or a 'I want you to murder someone in their bed' sort of favor?"

The Miracle Man's mask slipped, and he was Mako again. "I promise I won't hurt you. Probably storing some stuff in a warehouse for getting me an invitation to—" He froze as a wild, desperate hope seemed to strike him. "Can you get me home? Everything I hear is all garbled rumors, but apparently you're some kind of big hero who took down the Red Lotus. If you've got some pull with Raiko and can get me a pardon, I'll give you anything you want."

"If I had that kind of influence, you'd already have it, and I'd have Future Industries back." She reached across the desk and took his hand. "I'm sorry."

"I miss it so much. Being excited to go to work every morning. And Korra and Bolin and—how are they? I heard Korra got hurt but nobody I asked knew anything."

"The Red Lotus poisoned her." The memory of the cave, the eerie green light from the walls, overwhelmed her. If she closed her eyes, she could hear the platinum chains banging against the rock. She told him in short, staccato sentences of what had happened and the glassy look in Korra's eyes. "She went back home to get better. I try to write every few weeks but…"

Mako swore and buried his hands in his hair. "I should have been there. You were in the Earth Kingdom. I could've found you, but I didn't because—do you think I could have changed things?"

Asami ran her fingers over her scarf. Maybe he could have been the hero who saved them all or maybe he would have ended up dead. "I don't know."

"No, I guess you wouldn't." He held out the paper for her. "Do we have a deal?"

"Deal." Asami tucked the certificate into her purse. For the sake of her employees, she would trust Mako. Not trusting him had cost her everything. It was time to see what trusting him would do. She studied him. It wasn't just that he was older or thinner, she decided. Mako looked tired, more wary, as if he expected a tiger-lion to burst through the wall. And he had clung to her like a drowning man. As if he were desperately lonely. Maybe she should stay silent, but he had a right to know about Yin and the others, didn't he? Asami took his hand. "When we were in Ba Sing Se, Bolin wanted to look up your dad's side of the family. And well, he found them."

His head snapped up. "My family?" he repeated. "I have a family?"

Asami smiled. "A grandmother and about a thousand cousins. We took them with us to Republic City after—well, after."

Mako seemed not to hear her. His hands were shaking again. "I have a family," he whispered. "Tell me about them." He shook his head. "No, don't. Not here. Ryoji's already suspicious." He left the desk and stood before her as if he was the humble but noble hero in a mover begging the princess for her favor. "You have what you came for, but…can I see you again? As myself?"

"Of course you can. I've lost too many people to just let you vanish again. Should I come here or…"

"I'll send a message." He kissed her, a light brush of the lips. It should have been no more than an affectionate reminder of two dead love affairs. His lips were soft, and a little chapped, just as Asami remembered. An electric jolt shot through her. There had always been in a vortex of pure sexual attraction swirling around her and Mako even at their worst, and apparently the last two years had done nothing to dampen it. Asami tilted her head and put her hand to the back of his neck to draw him in. Policeman, criminal mastermind, if hardly mattered. He was here. He made a little sound in the back of his throat and was kissing her back, all teeth and tongue and glorious heat that washed over him and melted the ice within. Finally, something was going right.

"Boss?"

Mako broke the kiss. His lips were swollen and his hair was askew. He blinked. "You should probably go." He touched her lip. "See you soon."

"See you soon." She smoothed his hair and straightened her own clothing. Ryoji was glaring at her by the time she emerged from Mako's office, but she couldn't bring herself to regret it. She imagined the certificate as a pleasant weight at the bottom of her purse. She was going to save Tsu-chen, finally start helping people instead of being another victim. She would make sure Kala never had her superweapon. And Mako… Mako was alive and back in her life. She didn't know if they would rekindle what they had had before he left or even if they should. But she was no longer friendless in Gaoling. Maybe she had lost everything over the last two years, but she could regain what was important.


	3. The Price of Freedom

Sometimes, Mako thought, the worst part about dating an heiress and the Avatar was that it turned him into a snob. Like now, for instance. The pai gow parlor wasn't that different from the various front businesses where Zolt had held court and Mako had stared at gold chains with wide, envious eyes; but now he noticed things. The cheap aftershave of the doorman, the gaudy chains Shady Shin wore around his neck, the smell of lousy sake thick in the air. Men with plenty of money and power, but no taste. Appearance was everything, Fa had told him when he had arrived with nothing but his scarf and a chip on his shoulder. If he wanted to control Gaoling's underworld, he had to look like someone worth following.

Which also meant not throwing up all over the rug. _I have a family. A grandmother. Cousins._ Being an orphan had been as much a part of his life as his firebending since he was eight years old. He had had to be tough and sharp to take care of himself and Bolin because nobody else would. His exile had proved that being alone was his natural state. Except that he had a family. And Asami didn't hate him or think he was a monster. His fingers twitched with the urge to touch his lips for what felt like the hundredth time in the last twenty-four hours. Somehow, he had to get both of them home and rebuild his life.

But not now. Now, the Miracle Man had business to conduct. He glared at Shin. "Here to see Viper. And Ping."

"Sure, sure." Shin glared at him like he wanted to wring Mako's neck, but led him through the curtain separating the parlor from Triple Threat headquarters proper. Viper sat at a table surrounded by two girls in Water Tribe garb, if Water tribe garb involved showing off toned midsections and necklines that were just this side of indecent. Mako tried not to stare. It was another thing Fa had told him. Mako could drool after all the girls he wanted, but the Miracle Man couldn't have needs or vices because those were weaknesses. He gazed at Viper's smirking, punchable face instead. "We have a problem, Viper."

"Oh yeah? What kind of problem would that be, oh high and mighty Miracle Man?" He spat out the moniker as if it was Gommu's stew and sneered at Ryoji next to him. "Somebody hurt the dumb brute's brain by using big words?"

Ryoji growled and clenched his fist. Mako put a restraining hand on his arm. _He's going to be quoting poetry and doing calculus problems in his head all night after this._ He took the seat opposite Viper and shook his head in mock disappointment. "I thought we had an agreement. Bending in the streets and endangering potential customers is bad for business. Then I hear from Ryoji that Ping almost roasted his son." He looked around. "Where is Ping, anyway?"

"Special assignment," Viper said with a smile. "He'll be back in a few weeks."

Mako suppressed a groan. Viper had probably smuggled Ping out of the city the moment he'd heard about the incident with the Asami. "I think you owe Ryoji for putting his little boy in danger."

Viper snorted. "You only care because your girlfriend got a little hot. Remember what happened the last time you tried to play the big hero?"

Ryoji's eyes flicked toward Mako and his lips parted almost imperceptibly. He had never spoken of his past with anyone in Gaoling; it was one less thing they could tell the Provisional Authority if things went south, and well, what had there been to say? _I used to date the Avatar and the CEO of Future Industries until I got framed for terrorism?_ He had a feeling he was going to be answering a lot of awkward questions in between listening to Ryoji recite poetry. "Asami is my past. I'm much more concerned about my present. Understood?"

"All right, all right. I've got some equipment coming in tonight. Mechs, that kind of thing. I'll let you have first crack at it. Even give you a discount."

Which, knowing Viper, meant it would be overpriced garbage, but there might be a few good pieces from what was left of his contacts in Republic City. "Next time one of your people gets reckless, I'm going to have to discipline them personally."

"Look at you talking like you run this town. You're the same as you always were: a soft, squishy piece of garbage without the balls to get the job done."

Mako took a breath. _Don't let him bait you._ "Well, if you really think that, why don't you finish me off right now? It's four on two since I assume these lovely young ladies can fight?"

"Actually, we're secretaries."

"Aw, well I can have Ryoji step outside if it makes you feel better." He smiled but flicked his wrist and formed the beginnings of a fire dagger. Even as he smiled at them, he played the fight out in his head. Viper knew what he was and what he could do, but Mako also knew that he was only where he was because Fa had gotten cocky. He had to be prepared. Throw the dagger and Viper's coat and pin him before he could stand. Lightning blast to Shin. Controlled shots to minimize collateral damage.

Viper glared at the flames, and for a moment Mako thought he might have to go through with his battle plan. "You'll take yourself out someday, and I'll be there to pick up the pieces."

"You do that. Until then, keep the peace like we agreed. I'll send somebody to inspect the shipment." He stood. "Nice seeing you again."

Ryoji waited until they were outside before he said anything. The tunnels were filled with the din of people haggling over all manner of contraband, and it was almost impossible to be overheard unless you were standing shoulder to shoulder with someone. "One of these days, he's going to come after us."

"And we'll be waiting for him. But for now, he can't compete. The Triple Threats are a shell of what they were. Treating his secretaries like arm candy doesn't help. You'd think that he'd have learned by now that the person who handles the paperwork is the person who can screw you over the hardest."

"Also, I am not an idiot." Ryoji cleared his throat. "'Another year is gone. A traveler'speople shade on my head. And sandals on my feet.' Fire Sage Oza."

Mako didn't bother to hide his smile. Ryoji hadn't liked him at first—the interloper from the country he'd left behind who his boss had of taken under his wing—but they'd bonded over their determination to be more than street rats and hired muscle.

"So," Ryoji said at last, in a way that made Mako feel queasy "The girl who saved Lu is named Meiji. I'm not the best judge of these things, but she seemed pretty. Somebody you knew back in Republic City?"

'Asami Sato. Yes, those Satos."

As predicted, Ryoji's face darkened. "I hope Hiroshi's next life is as a nice, squashable insect. But his daughter... I thought she was friends with the Avatar? Keiji said they were down in the tunnels with everyone else. And she's some kind of hero now. That was your girlfriend?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"You know, boss, you're allowed to have had a life before you showed up on the old man's doorstep. You're allowed to have a life now. This is a pretty rough business, even if you do pay me enough to keep my library up to date. I'd go crazy if it wasn't for Keiji and Takeo. You want a girlfriend, that's okay by me. Just warn me when she comes over so we don't almost kill each other."

"I said I don't want to talk about it." Mako resisted the urge to shove his hands in his pockets like a sulking teenager. Asami had kissed him, but what that meant for the future was anyone's guess. The relationship they'd had before his arrest was fragile at best. And even the first try had been a disaster because he had been busy dithering over what he wanted. And as happy and forgiving as she had been, he was technically a real criminal now and what if she couldn't deal with that or Viper used her against him or…

But she had kissed him. He had held her and stroked her hair and it had felt good. More than good. He had felt human, like he was more than an animal in a three-piece suit who did what he had to to survive. She had brought back memories of carriage rides and dreams that he could be her protector. They had talked, really talked. Someone in this accursed city cared for him and not just what he could do for her. She wanted to see him again. Him, Mako. And if he could have her, if this could work somehow, he wouldn't dither. He would take her and keep her and they would be grateful for what they had.

The Plaza was the closest their underground world had to a town square. Posters advertising everything imaginable covered the walls. Not just the vices that brought those who lived in the other parts of the city, but the underground mover houses and bookshops that sold uncensored books and newspapers smuggled in from Zaofu or Republic City. The most popular service and the one that kept both him and Ryoji in their tailored suits was simply space: makeshift hotel rooms and storage spaces for those who found the eight cubic meters per person allotted by the Provisional Authority to be intolerable. Twice weekly, a band originally from the Northern Water Tribe gave free concerts and a metal shipping crate served as a sort of impromptu Speaker's Corner like the one in the Republic City. Usually, it was empty, but today someone had climbed the crate. Several someone's as a matter of fact.

Mako's eyes narrowed. The girl at the center was about his own age with pale blue eyes and paler skin that suggested the Water Tribe and Fire Nation were both in her blood. She was almost as tall as he was, with sharp, elegant features that made him think of a storybook princess. Her hair had been pulled into a ponytail, accentuating her pointed chin and high cheekbones. It was those pale eyes that rooted him to the spot. She looked at him as if it was her perfect right and duty to command him and she was about to order him to do something stupidly noble like fighting a dark spirit.

To her right was a Fire Nation girl in grey and red. She had a sweet, open face that reminded Mako of an elementary school teacher. She fidgeted slightly at the crowd's gaze but her own never left her leader. And, on the other side, wearing a shabby blue suit that looked like it belonged to somebody's least-favorite uncle, and his hair is long and messy as ever, was Hasook.

Mako stared at him. He hadn't spoken to Hasook since the day he walked out on the Fire Ferrets and had seen him only in passing since then. He had barely thought of him at all except to thank Fate for bringing Korra into his life. As far as Mako knew, Hasook had had a decent job as a clarinet instructor and a girlfriend and baby. Things could change quickly, but what was he doing here? Hasook's gaze raked over the assembled crowd and found Mako. He smiled a knowing smile, and Mako suppressed a shiver. Asami was one thing, but for so many of his old friends to end up down here made him uneasy.

It was only then that Mako noticed the hastily applied poster behind them. A plum blossom. "Well, if Kala was hoping to shut them up after that stuff in the market, I don't think it worked," Ryoji said.

"My friends," the leader said. Her voice carried over the din and made Mako stand perfectly still. "For those of you who don't know me, my name is Karaka. I believe you've heard of the group I represent. For too long the tyrant who pretends to unite our country has dismissed us as a myth. She has dismissed all of us. We scurry down here like vermin or stay caged behind the wall when Gaoling belongs to all of us."

"Talk like that's going to get us all killed," someone muttered.

"You think staying silent will keep us safe?" Karaka asked. "We know already what those in power think of us. Their obsession with a pure Earth Kingdom. Right now, you say it's just talk. But it was just talk in the Fire Nation before they wiped out the Air Nomads and decimated the Southern Water Tribe. If we must be ruled, let us be ruled by those who would treat this as fellow citizens. Join us and fight back against those who see us as less than human."

She paused, but there were no cheers, no demands for Kuvira to be thrown down. Mako shook his head. He had had the luxury of idealism for one magical year, but the truth was that most people really just wanted to be left alone. As long as Kuvira wasn't trying to wipe them out, they wouldn't rock the boat. Low-grade misery was all most of them had ever known, and all that talk about freedom and equality was just rhetoric.

The Fire Nation woman put her hand on Karaka's shoulder and squeezed. Hasook leaned over and whispered something in her ear as they descended back into the crowd. Mako could no longer suppress his shivers. Too many old memories dredging to the surface. Not just Hasook, but Korra giving speech after speech that made him believe he too could be a hero. Talk like that could get you killed==-or at least banished. "I think I need a good, stiff drink," he told Ryoji. "Let's go back to the club."

The club had been one of the few parts of his organization that Mako hadn't inherited from Fa. Not only did it remind him of happier times in the fancy restaurants of Republic City, it was an excellent source of intelligence as the cream of Gaoling society danced, drank, and gossiped the night away. Heads turned, and a murmur broke out among those who knew who he was.

The bartender waved him over and handed him a piece of paper. "Those three got here just before you did, wanted me to give you this."

Mako turned. Hasook, Karaka and their friend. Hasook gave him the barest little wave. Mako unfolded the note.

 _If Team Avatar ever meant anything to you, let's talk in your office. We know what you want more than anything in the world, and we can give it to you. Besides, I know something about Asami that you might want to hear._

"I just bet you do," Mako muttered. He might as well get it over with. Hasook could be really persistent when he actually wanted something. They might come back and other people might start noticing their presence. He could afford to be a thorn in Saikhan's side, but drawing the interest of the Provisional Authority proper would cost more than revolutionaries usually paid.

 _Remember when you didn't care about money and just wanted to do the right thing?_ The voice sounded like Bolin.

He did. He had ended up here.

 _You weren't so cynical when it was Asami doing the asking._

That had been different. And Asami was a customer who had to pay like everyone else. Just as soon as he figured out what that favor was going to be. "Tell them that I'll meet the gentleman and the woman in red in my office in five minutes." If nobody saw him meeting with the one who made the speech, maybe they wouldn't draw so much attention. Or maybe his terms would be so unacceptable that they would forget the whole business.

Four-and-a-half minutes later, they walked through his door. "Thank you for seeing on such short notice," the woman said softly. "I'm Ria and this is Arnook."

A fake name. Interesting. "What can I do for you after that great speech in the plaza?"

"You were there?" Ria brightened visibly. "Karaka can be very charismatic. At least when her audience hasn't a;ready shut their ears." Her gaze swept around the room, Coldly and clinically and she no longer reminded Mako of a softness and nervousness had vanished. She was a hawk searching for prey. "I assume that the passageway behind you doesn't contain half a dozen soldiers ready to arrest me?"

"Why? Is there something that you should be arrested over? More than usual, I mean? Kala probably issued a warrant for treason the day she got here."

"Not quite, but not far wrong. And she's done more than that. She's working on a weapon, something that will change the face of warfare as we know it. She talks about a pure Earth Kingdom. And those who talk about purity never have a place for people like you and me." She leaned forward in her chair. "I'm not as charismatic as Karaka, but I think it's time for us to strike before they do."

"And you'll keep getting stabbed in the street. Good luck with that."

Ria blinked. "It doesn't have to be that way. If we just have the proper weapons, if we could just fight them on equal terms, maybe Gaoling would have a chance." She nodded towards Hasook. "My friend tells me that you fought the Equalists alongside the Avatar. I…know something of that. You fought for true justice and equality. Just as we are now. And just as Asami Sato is not. At least if Kala has her way."

"Is that so?" Mako kept his face and voice carefully neutral, but his stomach clenched. The thought of Asami having anything to do with Kala was absurd. She was the one who had risked and lost everything for the sake of fighting her father. Granted, she had believed he was a terrorist and sold weapons to Viper and his friends, but Kala was too much like Hiroshi for Asami to get mixed up with her.

"They had a meeting at the prefecture." Hasook spoke for the first time. "Our sources say Kala wants her to make one of Varrick's designs work in the real world. And if Kala's interested in it, then we're interested. We want that weapon, whatever it is."

"And has Asami actually agreed to build this weapon?" Silence. "I thought so. Whatever you heard about me before, I'm a businessman now. And businessmen don't fight people they know they can't beat. You're right. Your friend does talk a good game, but you'll get crushed if you ever actually take on the Provisional Authority." He looked at Hasook. "Free advice for you. If you're so worried about what Kala or Kuvira will do, then leave."

"But—" Ria began.

Mako held up a hand. "I really don't think I'm the guy you're looking for. Feel free to have a drink on the house."

Ria left, but Hasook rose from his seat and closed the door behind her. "Got a minute for an old friend?"

"You're not going to change my mind."

"You sure about that? Because I didn't come all this way and miss my kid's birthday just be told no. I'm not like you, Mako. I'm not just scraping by." He looked around the office, smirking again. "I love what you've done here. Really. Even if I do remember you saying you'd rather die than go back to the triads. I guess that's still technically true. You smuggle things for yourself, after all. Quite a step down from fighting with Avatar Korra."

"Is there a point to all this, or are you just being a jerk like usual?"

"As a matter of fact, there is a point. Remember when I told you that pro-bending didn't pay the bills? It turns out neither does the clarinet. What did pay was government work. I worked for the Transportation Bureau for the longest time. Got to see Kuvira riding that train of hers all across the Earth Kingdom." His expression changed, and when he spoke again his voice was grimmer than Mako had ever heard it. "What I saw gave me the creeps. She's the kind of woman who would turn the desert to glass and say it's more peaceful. You've heard about her reeducation camps?"

"Enough to know that I don't want to end up there." Labor camps deep in the mountains where Kuvira sent "traitors and undesirables." There was never a trial. One day a person was living their life, and the next they were gone. None of them had ever been seen again. Maybe they were doing hard labor. Maybe they were killed outright. Mako didn't want to know.

"It's worse than you think. 'Freedom through labor?' More like starving people to death and letting them sleep in their own shit."

"And how does a member of the Transportation Bureau know more than me?" The hair on the back of Mako's neck stood up. "You aren't Transportation Bureau, are you? And you aren't helping the Form Blossoms because you're stuck here like the rest of us.

"Well, it's nice to know that this life hasn't made you stupid. Let's just say that Raiko is more concerned about Kuvira than he lets on. We need a stable Earth Kingdom, but we also need for Kuvira to be weak enough that she doesn't get any ideas about staying in charge after the job's done. Or fulfilling the Earth Queen's dream of getting all her land back. Sometimes, we nudge a revolutionary that can keep her busy for a while. Sometimes, we seek out old friends in the criminal underworld." His lips were a thin line. "The United Republic needs your help. Whatever Kala wants Asami to build, we want it first. She already got a head start on the new mecha suits."

"I'm not exactly patriotic anymore. And Asami would never help Kala anyway."

"She may not have a choice. I'm sure Varrick thinks it'll make him millions, and Kala is really good at making people do what she wants. As for the other thing…" He put a hand in his pocket. "I think you got screwed, if that helps. But Raiko, he won't do anything unless he thinks he can get something out of it. And he would be really grateful if you made sure Kuvira wasn't the only one with that weapon." He pulled out a piece of paper. "Make sure Asami builds the weapon for us and you're free and clear." He smiled, but there was no trace of mockery in it. "You can go home."

Mako stared at the paper. _This document hereby absolves the undersigned of any past wrongdoing, lifts any penalties, and makes him whole before the law._ At the bottom was the gold seal of the Republic and the proper signatures. All printed on the right paper with every detail correct. It was genuine. A real pardon awaiting only a few penstrokes to make it legitimate. He could go home.

Home. He could see his family. The grandmother and the thousand cousins. Bolin. They wouldn't have any reason to be ashamed of him anymore. He would leave the Miracle Man behind for Ryoji or whoever else wanted the job. He would wash away the filth of the streets, use his money to do something. He could court Asami properly, maybe actually pay for dinner once in a while and—

Mako gripped his desk. Asami. Asami who hadn't yet agreed to do anything. Who had been so desperate to keep an employee out of Kala's reach that she had come to him. Who he had lied to once before. "I won't do anything behind Asami's back. I've hurt her enough."

Hasook chuckled. "So you like her after all. Rumor mill at the arena was kind of split on that. Do it to her face. Tell her you want weapons for the Republic and the Plum Blossoms, to earn your way home. If she likes you half as much as you like her, she'll say yes."

Yes, she would. Favor for a favor. After all, they all did was they had to survive. He would see her again and ask her and together they would make plans to rebuild their lives.

* * *

"You have the papers?"

Tsu-chen barely resisted rolling her eyes. "Yes, Ria, I have the papers. As soon as I get to the Fire Nation, the whole world will know what the Provisional Authority is."

Maybe it hadn't been kind to lie to Ms. Sato, but she was hardly likely to help a Plum Blossom lieutenant. It didn't matter. Soon the revolution would begin.

She put a hand over her stomach. _Anything for you. You will be free._


End file.
